


Front Lines

by Aithilin



Series: First Meetings [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: No one was happy about the royal family visiting the front line' and it was not the ideal place for Nyx to tell his king about his relationship with Noctis.





	

It was a political move, more than anything. The criticism had been floating through the city— rumbling through the districts of immigrants, through the areas that weren’t as shining and sterile as the city centre, where the discontent could breed and spread the longer the war raged on— long enough for the Council to take notice. There was talk that the royals were too far removed from the front lines, from the war, to know what the front lines were like. That they were too far removed from the damage done to the northern Wall and the fear that gripped the district closest to the Cavaugh lines. 

It was agreed that the King and Crown Prince would visit the front line. To assess, to understand, to appear to those still holding the outposts. 

It was public, and publicised, and the Crownsguard were on high alert as they were stationed throughout with the military. The Kingsglaive mingled in with the troops, the shadows lingering along the plotted and planned paths the Crownsguard had prepared. 

No one was happy about the visit to the Cavaugh front lines. 

Clarus and Cor were glued to the king’s side, as normal, all steel-eyes and stiff-backed. The Crownsguard trusted to go ahead gleaming like targets in the sunlight. Everyone knew that this whole mess was more trouble than it was worth— that there was too much of a risk, even if Regis and his son were living weapons in their own right. 

Nyx walked the battlements above, eyes on Noctis as he was sheltered between both Clarus and Cor, steps behind his father. There was plenty of chatter on their lines— check in, confirmations, details of where the tour was going and any detours they might need as they left the shadow of the Wall. As they stepped into open ground between the city and the trenches dug. 

They had been briefed for an attack, had prepared for an attack. All eyes were open for an attack. 

An attack from the outside. 

No one had been prepared for someone within the tight lines to be a traitor. 

The explosion rocked the battlement beneath Nyx’s feet, and he saw the smoke before he recognised what had happened. He saw the pieces of metal and stone ripping through the Crownsguard closest to the bomb before the fire followed. Regis’ shield was up before the shrapnel could reach them. 

And Nyx was at Noct’s side in a second, locking eyes with Cor before the Marshal moved forward to guide them back to safety. He held Noct back with an arm around the prince’s shoulders, knowing that if he didn’t, Noct would be rushing alongside Cor into the open. 

“Stay close, little prince,” Nyx muttered, kukri in hand as he followed Clarus’ lead. 

He pulled Noct that much closer when another bomb went off, as the gunfire started, as the shield around them was made stronger. He saw Noct’s eyes widen as the shield sparked with every new impact, and slipped a hand into the prince’s hair.

He missed the look back from Regis as he muttered; “I got you, Noct.”

It wasn’t until later— until the dust cleared, until they were back within the Wall, until there was a confirmed kill of the traitors— that Nyx realised he was hovering around Noctis. It wasn’t until he was letting the prince be pulled off by Cor that Regis approached him. 

“Sir Ulric,” Regis wasn’t flanked by his friends, but Nyx could feel their eyes on him, could see them not far out of immediate reach; “A word?”

“Of course, your majesty.”

There was no where private in the chaos now— no little dark niche or sequestered space— and at the stern look he was receiving from his king, at the worried look he was getting from Noct, Nyx was almost wishing he would be needed back out on the front lines. He was acutely aware of the way Cor was flanking Noct, the way Clarus was watching him. 

“You were very fast to act.”

“You were in danger, your majesty.”

“You were fast to protect my son, not me.”

Nyx couldn’t read Regis, couldn’t understand the look he was getting. For a moment, glancing at Noct’s worried eyes, he felt his mouth go dry. “Is that a problem, your majesty?”

“Not at all,” something softened in the king’s eyes; “but did you really call him ‘little prince’?”

“Dad!”

He wasn’t sure if he had ever blushed in front of the king before. He supposed when he was young, maybe. But since… Years of experience with Regis meant he knew that honesty was always the best option— open and frank honesty. Maybe a cavalier smirk for good measure. “Problem with that, your majesty?”

He expected the glare from Cor and Clarus, the blush from Noct as the prince made his way over to ‘rescue’ him. He didn’t expect the chuckle from Regis. A smile, maybe. But not the chuckle and the way he waved off his friends’ concern. 

“Neither of you saw fit to tell me about this _familiarity_ between you?”

Nyx offered a small shrug, “I trusted Noct’s judgement on that front.”

It was spoken quietly, meant to just be between them. That little spark of informal familiarity they shared to be kept quiet. But he relaxed at Regis’ nod and smile. “Then I suppose it’s him I’ll need to scold. Come to the Citadel when you get a free moment, Ulric, I have a fatherly talk to give you.”

“Of course, your majesty.”


End file.
